Dumbledore's Betrayal
by The Half Mad Muggle
Summary: Severus Snape came to him seeking protection.  However, Albus Dumbledore needs something from his newest possession.  Something he will get...no matter what the cost.  Set before Voldemort's first downfall, Dumbledore has slightly questionable means, AU.
1. Prologue

**Dumbledore's Betrayal**

This story has some adult content.

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><p><strong><span>Prologue:<span>**

Albus Dumbledore was in mourning. That much was obvious. The news had shaken him to his very core. The thought that his friend had gone was almost too much—but the knowledge, the terrible knowledge that he had been murdered had threatened to undo his seemingly calm and warm exterior. He had felt it. Deep inside. The anger burnt like a white flame, and for one moment, his vision was obscured. He could not see. He could not understand. He wanted revenge.

They had caught the person who had committed such a grave sin, but could find no proof. Veritaserum was proving impossible and he had used a different wand. He would be released from Azkaban by the end of the week if they could not force him to sign a confession. Albus was finding this a struggle to deal with. This man had killed his dear friend, a venerable old man who had meant no harm to anyone and had simply become caught up in the war, and was most likely to walk away!

Albus prided himself in being a rational man. How many times had he consoled others after they had lost someone who meant something to them?

Too many times than he cared to remember. And yet. This time, he could not find the calm that he preached to everyone else. Did that make him a hypocrite? He did not think so.

He would have his revenge. He would find a way.

He would do something. He would no longer stand by.

He walked into Azkaban prison and was shown to where David Glidden was being kept. A Death-Eater of very low power and worth, he was simply a pawn in Lord Voldemort's war. But he had killed. Albus was sure of this. He stared in at the man, heavily bearded and wrapped in the customary white shirt and loose trousers that Azkaban inmates had to wear.

Glidden glanced up at Dumbledore, peering in at him through the bars. Yellow teeth bared in a terrible smile. He leaned forward and spat onto the ground at Dumbledore's feet, knowing why he had come. "You can prove nothing!"

Albus knew that, in truth, he could not argue with that. At this current point, he could not prove anything. He folded his arms. "I will submit you to torture, if I must."

Glidden laughed at him. "You cannot. A very dear friend of mine has signed the Act that protects me, as an innocent citizen, from any form of interrogation by you—or anyone else. He is very high up in the Ministry of Magic; it means that he cannot have that permission revoked." He grinned. "If you know the Act, then you will know that, should you torture me, it will be you facing lifetime imprisonment in Azkaban."

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes. It was clear who that person was.

"I am sure he was a good man—but he did not put up much of a fight."

The white flame was burning his chest once more, and for a moment, he struggled to breathe. "I will prove that you were the one that committed the crime." He whispered.

Glidden shook his head. "This time next week, I shall be free. I will walk away from you, and you will never find me. I did not kill him."

Dumbledore nodded slowly. "We shall see."

He turned to walk away.

"You cannot do anything to me, Dumbledore!"

But Albus Dumbledore disagreed. He would find a way. He just needed someone who was willing to put their life in his hands. Someone who had slightly…compromised his morals in the past.

Someone who had experience with torture.

And someone who owed him a _favour_. Someone who owed him their _life_.


	2. Chapter One

**Dumbledore's Betrayal**

_Thank you for the wonderful response to the first chapter. I hope that you enjoy this latest offering._

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><p><strong><span>Chapter One<span>**

Severus Snape was sat in the library, reading his second Potions' journal of that evening. He was due to take up the position of Potions' Teacher at the end of this year, and thus, he was taking as much time as he could to study and increase his knowledge about his beloved subject. He was curled in an armchair, far away from anyone else's eyes, shoes abandoned by the chair leg and feet tucked up into the confines of the slightly squishy yet divinely comfortable material. His head was resting against the arm of the chair, dark hair tucked behind his ears so it did not bother him as he read. His black eyes, worn by much reading in too dim light, scoured every mark on the page, including those that cluttered the margins and illustrated further the comments that the author made. He yawned slightly, shifting position to ease his aching back. He was warm and content. Two things that, when combined, led to drowsiness.

He glanced at the window. The sky had long since darkened. Did that mean it was night or morning? He could not remember when the sun had set. His eyelids were heavy. His muscles seemed slackened. He did not want to move to his bedroom, located three floors down in the dungeons. No. He was practically invisible here.

And he felt safe amongst the books and the papers and the sheaves of parchment. The ink-spots that dotted the carpets and the wooden furniture. The silence. Such wonderful silence.

His eyes drifted closed, the book dropped from his slackened grip, and his breathing levelled out.

He was asleep.

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><p>The door to the library opened and Albus Dumbledore stepped through into the room adorned with more books than anyone could possibly imagine. He stood on the balcony that overlooked the lower floor and scanned the darkness until he found what he was looking for.<p>

Severus Snape was asleep, head resting against the side of the chair and the book that he had once been holding now on the floor. The pages would be creased, and Madame Pince would be very unhappy.

Snape was his latest acquisition. A new possession for him to examine and utilise in the war against Lord Voldemort. There were two types of people in Albus Dumbledore's army; people and pawns. People started out as pawns until they proved that they had some depth, and then they became people that he would actually care about. He cared about a huge amount of people; but he had a feeling Snape would remain a pawn. It was, at times, just too easy. Snape was desperate to redeem himself, desperate to change his ways, desperate to be seen as someone instead of something.

And that meant he was very easy to manipulate.

If Snape had not been a Death-Eater once upon a time, Dumbledore would have perhaps felt some sort of sympathy for the young man. He had not had the easiest life; Dumbledore knew all about that. He had known the first time he had seen an eleven year old Severus Snape that his home life had been a constant torment. But he had not done anything about it...and in the end, it had brought him a new weapon.

The weapon that would help him to finally get his revenge on Glidden.

Albus Dumbledore pressed the fingertips of his hands together, resting his chin on top of the steeple he had created. He watched as Snape shifted position slightly, and smiled.


	3. Chapter Two

**Dumbledore's Betrayal**

_Thank you everyone for your wonderful reviews. I hope you enjoy this second chapter._

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><p><strong><span>Chapter Two<span>**

The emotion in Albus Dumbledore's eyes was enough to chill any living soul; but Severus was too angry to see. He could have struck the older man had there not been a desk in between them. "I will _not_ carry out that command." He answered. "You will not make me."

Dumbledore folded his arms and stared at Severus. "Might I remind you, Severus, that you are in my...care...now?" His voice was low.

Severus was trembling, "I will not..." He dropped his voice to a whisper, "Torture for you." He shook his head. "We are not Death-Eaters."

"Indeed. But we _are_ at war, Severus." Albus turned away from Severus, looking out his window. "I have need of information. You are the only one who has the necessary knowledge."

"You are the Lord of the Light! You do not _torture_ people!" Severus cried, holding out both hands as a sign of desperation.

Albus would not turn back from his window. "It would not be me torturing..."

Severus frowned, "Why are you doing this?"

"I have a war to win, Severus!" Albus whirled to face Severus, and his eyes flashed with anger. Severus took a step backward. "And you will help me."

"Not like this." Severus whispered. "I do not torture."

"Are you refusing my command, Severus?" Albus' voice was almost conversational—but Severus felt the chill run down his spine. "I cannot follow this order." He answered. "I'm sorry."

Albus walked around the side of the desk and stood in front of Severus. The nineteen-year-old stared back. Albus considered the younger man for a long moment, before leaning forward. "You do not want me as your enemy, Severus."

The shadow of a frown crossed Severus' forehead, but he did not back down. "You will not hurt me. You are Albus Dumbledore." He reached out to touch Albus' arm, "You cannot harm me."

Albus drew his arm away. "Leave my sight." He ordered.

Severus turned and walked from the room, closing the door with a quiet snap.

Albus watched the closed door for a long moment.

Then he turned and looked at the glass vials in the cabinet. He contemplated them for a long moment. One finger stroked a vial. His eyes returned to the closed door.


	4. Chapter Three

Dumbledore's Betrayal

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><p><span>Chapter Three<span>

Severus was sat in a corner of the dining room, trying to concentrate on the latest addition to his library, a book about uncommon plants. He was having difficulty, however, because some other members of the Order of the Phoenix were there.

It was not a complete meeting—Albus had, for some unknown reason, only summoned some of his soldiers to him.

Severus could not believe the trio that had turned up.

He had thought the taunting he had received at Hogwarts from the Marauders would be the worst he would have to suffer. He had been wrong.

Since then, Sirius Black, James Potter and their new Auror friend Alastor Moody continued to bully Severus. Especially because he had recently defected from the Dark Lord to fight for the light.

He had hoped that this would have generated some respite, but it meant that they did not trust him.

They had tested him when he had first joined the Order, little more than three months ago.

Perhaps they thought it would force him to run away. Severus was stronger than that. It had been the silent treatment, first. They ignored him. They would not answer his questions. They would not acknowledge his comments. It was so immature. That did not mean it had not hurt. But Severus knew that the alternative was much worse.

Then there was the challenging. They challenged everything Severus said. Anything he ventured, anything he said, they shouted down. Even if Severus was speaking the complete truth, they could still discredit it. He had begun to question himself, wondering if he really was speaking something truthful.

Things had cooled now to just hate. It was especially bad where Sirius and Alastor were concerned. They did not touch him—but that was because he was not worth touching. To them, he was scum.

It was hard enough as it was, knowing that the Death-Eaters had seen him as scum too.

"Does anyone else smell that?" Sirius announced suddenly, turning to Alastor. "Smells like Death-Eater scum to me!"

Severus looked up, "So mature of you, Black." He shot back, closing his book with a snap.

Sirius whirled to face him. "You do have a voice."

Severus stood up, "We are on the same side, Black."

Black crossed the room and grabbed Severus by his shirt, slamming Severus back against the wall. "Do not speak to me. You and I are not the same. You are a Death-Eater."

"I _was_ a Death-Eater!" Severus replied angrily, "I fight for the light now!"

Sirius withdrew his wand and pressed it under Severus' chin. The other felt his heartbeat increase as he forced himself to continue to stare into Sirius' eyes. "I wonder, if we were to torture you, you would say the same?"

"Sirius." James murmured. "He's not worth it."

"I disagree." Sirius argued, "I think destroying him would do us all a favour..." He dug the wand in further, ignoring how Severus winced.

The door opened and Albus Dumbledore swept in. Severus felt a stab of relief—although he and the Headmaster did not always get on, he could at least keep the Marauders in check.

Except today, Albus ignored Sirius and simply strode straight past. If he had noticed Sirius threatening the other, he was not going to act.

Severus drew back slightly, casting a glance toward Dumbledore. Sirius saw who he was looking at and withdrew. He glared at Severus, "Later, Snape. I will find out if you are trustworthy." He spat at Severus' face, laughing when the other recoiled.

"Oh, he is trustworthy." Albus said suddenly, answering Sirius' comment. "Do not worry, Sirius. He is certainly trustworthy. He has no desire to go back to the Death-Eaters, do you, Severus?"

Severus, wiping his face, glanced toward the Headmaster. "No."

"I didn't think so. Not after what they did to you." Albus said—and his gaze was not kind. Severus stared at him. "Pardon?"

"I understand why you are so unsure, Sirius. Of Severus' loyalty. That is why I have summoned you here today. I thought, perhaps, I could show you the reason why I know I can trust Severus." He plunged his hand into his robe and pulled out a glass vial.

"What is that?" Severus asked, taking a step forward.

"A memory." Albus answered, not glancing at the other.

"Which memory?" Severus demanded, fear stifling his chest. This time, Albus ignored him completely.

Sirius and Alastor moved forward, intrigued.

"What sort of memory, Albus?" Alastor asked.

James had lingered on the sideline, casting his gaze at Severus, who had gone very white.

"An important one. A...turning point." Albus murmured. At that, Severus charged forward. "No! You cannot show them that!" He nearly made contact with Albus, but Albus simply looked at him and Severus found himself unable to move. "Headmaster!" He pleaded.

"Sit him down, Alastor." Albus ordered, turning his attention to the vial. "I should be able to project this correctly—if I remember right—we should all be able to see it."

Alastor's hands rested on Severus' shoulders, stopping him from leaping back up from his chair and grabbing the vial. "Please, Headmaster, not this." No one could see those memories—that was too much—

Albus crossed to Severus, leaning forward so he could murmur into Severus' ear, "I warned you. Do not make an enemy of me."

"Please, don't." Severus couldn't take his eyes of the vial, "No one should see these..."

"But it is important, is it not, for your allies to understand what made you turn from Voldemort?" Albus challenged. Severus raised his eyes to him, "No. Not...not that!"

"Have you reconsidered my request?" Albus asked, changing tact.

Severus shook his head, "No. You know I cannot do that."

"Then you give me no reason not to continue." Albus walked away.

"This is blackmail!" Severus cried, struggling against Alastor. "You can't do this!"

Albus did not respond. Instead he simply opened the vial and cast his spell.

It was a copy of a memory from a year before. Severus had, upon rejoining the light, allowed Albus Dumbledore entrance to his mind so the wizard could determine his loyalty. Dumbledore had insisted on making copies of certain memories. This had been the first of a certain period in Severus' life that he would like to forget.

The spell caused a strange, fog-like substance to fill the room for a matter of moments, before everything started to clear. On the floor, Severus could see himself. He had been unceremoniously thrown at the Dark Lord's feet. He had also sustained a terrible beating from two fellow Death-Eaters. His robes were torn, and his face was covered in blood.

_Lord Voldemort stared down at his follower, "I assume this means that you have failed me once again, Severus?" _

_Severus looked up at his master. Blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth and he could not speak._

Severus remembered this moment—he knew exactly what would follow—his stomach turned and he cried out, "Don't!"

He could see Albus, watching the memory with a detached sense of disinterest.

_Voldemort looked at the other two Death-Eaters. "Leave us." He turned his attention to Severus. "Stand up."_

Alastor would not let Severus go—he would not let _them_ see this! He could feel his heartbeat increasing tenfold, sweat dripping down his back.

He was remembering this scene.

"_Stand up!" The Dark Lord pulled Severus to his feet and pushed him back against the wall. "Why do you fail me, Severus? Speak."_

_Severus coughed and spluttered on his own blood. "...Not enough time..."_

"_Do not give me excuses!" Voldemort had more strength than his servant, and he pounded his fist into Severus' stomach. Severus collapsed to the ground again with a moan._

Severus could feel himself getting angry, as he had been in the memory. How dare Dumbledore treat him like this? Who was he to show such a confidential thing to Severus' enemies? He tried to rein in his temper, but he was struggling.

_Voldemort stepped over Severus and grabbed his hair. He raised Severus' face to they were looking at each other. "Pity. You had so much potential." He ran one hand down Severus' cheek. "So much potential..." He repeated. His hand moved lower, one nail gently scraping against the exposed flesh of Severus' throat. _

"_I feel that your mistake could be forgiven." Voldemort murmured. "Would you like that, Severus? The forgiveness of the Dark Lord?"_

"Stop. Headmaster. Please stop." Severus pleaded.

"_Forgiveness comes with a price. You must be willing to pay that price."_

"_And...what price would that be...my Lord?" Severus asked, voice trembling._

_Voldemort smiled a hideous smirk. "I am sure you would like to know." He turned Severus over and let the back of his head hit the carpet. "Something...unique..."_

Severus pulled himself from Alastor's grasp and charged toward the Headmaster. Albus raised his wand, and Severus stopped, "I will not watch this!"

"_You need not say a single word..."_

Severus, driven half-mad by the whispers in his head, threw himself not at Albus but at the glass vial. He crushed the glass beneath his foot and the memory disappeared. He turned to face the Headmaster. "How dare you?"

Albus turned to face him. "I planned to show our colleagues why you are trustworthy."

Severus was shaking. He was horrified to feel the tears burning his eyes. "Those are _my _memories—and you will not show them to anyone."

Albus turned his attention to the three Order members, who were watching the unfolding events with unreadable expressions. "Gentlemen, if you would not mind. I need to speak to Severus alone."

Severus glared at them until they left. He felt sick. He could still hear, in his head, the soft whisper of Voldemort's voice.

"_It may hurt."_

He felt his rage intensify, and beside him, one of the chairs cracked. He was shaking, uncontrollable in his anger. He could have killed Dumbledore—he was reaching for his wand.

Dumbledore grabbed both of Severus' arms and forced them behind him, pushing him against the wall. "Calm down."

"Get off me!"

"Calm down!" Albus bellowed, "You would not do well to enrage me, Severus."

Dumbledore was in Severus' personal space, he was too close, and for a wild moment, Severus thought it was deliberate. "Please let go of me."

"I am sorry that I have to use your memories in such a way, Severus. However, I must have ways to ensure your allegiance." His voice was hard—and the apology did not sound sincere.

"I have not reconsidered your request, _Headmaster_. You know why I have returned to you. I refuse to cause people pain."

Albus paused. "I am disappointed in you, Severus. However. I suppose I cannot change your mind." His tone lightened considerably, "I shall let you go."

He released Severus, who pulled away, straightening his robes.

"I do suggest you think on my request, Severus—I would not wish to force your hand." Albus called after him.

Severus turned. "Are you threatening me?" He murmured.

Albus simply raised an eyebrow. "Consider my request."

Severus turned and slammed the door.


	5. Chapter Four

**Dumbledore's Betrayal**

_This story does not have a nice Dumbledore. I feel I ought to warn people of that..._

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><p><strong>Chapter Four<strong>

Severus was walking along the corridor, preoccupied with thoughts that he wished he could ignore.

He could hear voices up ahead, and planned to pay them no heed, until his name was mentioned. He pressed himself to the wall just outside the door.

"Certainly an eye-opening experience." That was Alastor Moody's voice. "Never seen Albus act like that before."

"Maybe he knows as well as we do that Snape cannot be trusted." Black replied. "I wish I knew what Voldemort did to him, though."

"Did you see Snape's reaction? It must have been pretty nasty. I could feel it—he was really shaking." Moody answered.

"Are you feeling pity for him, Alastor?" Sirius demanded, "He's a treacherous snake—you know that."

There was the sound of footsteps. "I'm not so sure. He did look pretty shaken up." James Potter was perhaps the softest now—if Severus could have been able to tolerate him. But he could not stand Potter and all that Potter stood for, so the fact that he was feeling _pity_ for Severus angered the other. He stormed past, narrowing his eyes.

But he would not torture. He would not be a tool for Dumbledore to use for such a thing. He could no longer cause pain to other people because of the pain that had been caused to him.

And it was pain. It was pain that he had never been able to come to terms with himself. When the Death-Eaters had started to use him for their sport, he had realised just what he had become involved in. And although he could shut out what was happening to him during the day, at night it was much harder.

He did not know why he was so easy to take advantage of. Maybe it was because he did not protest when things happened to him. That was how he had been brought up, after all. To accept things were happening to him because he deserved it and not to protest it.

He walked out of the headquarters and out onto the deserted street, pulling his hood up and folding his arms over his chest to keep out the cold.

Why would Dumbledore even want him to torture?

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><p>The next morning was a full meeting for the Order of the Phoenix. Albus was leading the meeting, full of smiles and the joys of a sunny day so early in the year. He complimented Alastor on his new coat and seemed perfectly cheerful. As the members of the group assembled, Severus slipped in through the door and took a seat on the outskirts, still reading one of the books he had found in the Hogwarts library. He didn't see the cold gaze that Dumbledore cast in his direction, so engrossed was he in the healing properties of common garden weeds.<p>

The meeting got underway and Severus finally raised his head to join in. He listened to the updates from various Order members, but when Moody started to talk about the Manchester raid, he felt he had to interrupt.

"The Dark Lord is not planning to keep any further resources in Manchester, because he believes it is unsafe." He said quietly, knowing he had the attention of all the people in the room. "He has yet to announce the new location."

Moody nodded at this, "And how does he know that Manchester is potentially unsafe, Snape?"

Severus was used to the finger of suspicion being pointed in his direction, especially from Moody.

"Yes, Severus. Any idea why he would know about the Manchester raid?"

Severus turned his head to look at Dumbledore, slightly surprised. It was not often that Dumbledore openly challenged Snape and his loyalty. "I assume that it is a slip at the Ministry, Headmaster, as it has certainly not come from any of the sources that I am party to."

Dumbledore continued to stare at Severus, until the other became too uncomfortable under his scrutiny and looked away. Others had started to pick up on the atmosphere in the room and were exchanging confused glances. Snape was not well liked, but everyone knew that there was an unspoken respect between the Headmaster and the ex Death-Eater. James glanced at Alastor, both of them remembering what they had seen yesterday and wondering what had been said after they had left.

Severus remained silent for the rest of the meeting; it was Thursday, and that meant that once this meeting was finished, he would spend the day waiting for a Summons from the Dark Lord, who also liked to hold his weekly meetings on Thursdays.

At the moment, Severus was not in Lord Voldemort's good books, mainly because he had had little information to report to his master when asked. It was not his fault that the Order of the Phoenix were doing very little at the moment in the war; he had not mentioned the Manchester raid, so clearly the Light had a leak in their ranks. Severus delivered information to the Dark Lord that he believed was safe or merely insignificant.

Unfortunately, the Dark Lord often thought the information was worthless too—and that meant Severus suffered in response.

The meeting drew to a close and the members started to disperse. Severus went back to his book, waiting for the main throng of people to leave before he would make his exit. He would return to Hogwarts and try to prepare himself for whatever the Dark Lord had planned for that evening.

Albus stopped beside Severus' chair to talk to James, asking him about a recent project he had embarked upon. Severus moved out of the way, turning the page and examining a diagram on the parchment. When Albus had finished, he knocked against Severus when he walked away—but hardly reacted. When Severus apologised, thinking it was his fault, Albus didn't seem to hear him.

Or, as Severus realised a moment later, was ignoring him. He watched Albus leave the room and then stood, face contorting into a frown.

"Severus." James murmured, "Everything all right?"

Severus looked at him, surprised that he was being spoken to. He glared at Potter, "Why wouldn't it be?"

"I was just wondering. After yesterday and everything. Albus seems..."

Severus scoffed, "Oh yes, the precious and saintly Albus Dumbledore. He can do no wrong, am I right?" And with that, he stormed from the room leaving a surprised James in his wake, who murmured after him, "To be upsetting you."

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><p>The burn on his arm finally came at half past seven in the evening, after nearly seven hours of waiting and getting more and more anxious.<p>

Severus hated the waiting before the Death-Eater meetings almost as much as he hated attending the meetings. But he would accept the fact that this was his job and go anyway. Even if it did mean donning the robes and the mask that haunted his every dream and terrorised every moment he closed his eyes. The mask that made him faceless, a body without an identity, the mask that made him a servant to the one man who knew how to abuse him beyond even the nightmares his twisted mind had conjured over the years.

He Apparated from the edge of the Forbidden Forest, tucking his hands into his cloak and taking his place in the circle. At least, in the mask, no one knew for certain it was him. He kept his eyes on the ground in front of him, identifying a small green weed in the grass and focusing all his attention on that single leaf.

"Good evening, my dear followers." Lord Voldemort had that silky tone tonight that was synonymous in every Death-Eater's mind with danger. He liked to play, like the cat with the mouse, and liked to make people uneasy when around him. That was a talent his mere shadow possessed, let alone his physical form.

_The weed could be used to relieve the itchiness associated with certain rashes, often a symptom of several childhood illnesses._

"It has been a quiet week, has it not?" Voldemort continued, deciding to walk around the back of the circle, a tactic he often employed to spread worry. His footsteps were practically silent and, unless he was speaking, it was difficult to determine where he was.

"Very quiet indeed." The words were spoken right behind him; he felt their syllables brush against his neck and he forced himself not to flinch, not to react any further.

_If mixed with wasp sting venom, it could create a more potent poison. It is often the most innocuous of plants that create the most deadly of weapons._

Voldemort finished his walk and assumed his position at the head of the circle. "I am bored."

Severus nearly winced, and was almost pleased at his powers of self control. It had taken two months to finally stop reacting violently to the single word "bored".

"_I'm bored, Severus."_

"I need a target. Something to attack. Something to destroy." Voldemort continued, pacing again now. Severus could feel the atmosphere intensify; everyone was concerned about who the Dark Lord would attack. It was clear that he was hungering for blood.

"Snape!" Voldemort turned and stared straight at Snape, who raised his eyes and looked toward his Master's face. "My Lord?" Once again, Voldemort had unsettled him by knowing exactly where in the circle he was stood. He wondered just how many other layers the Dark Lord could penetrate in a single glance.

"Come closer." Voldemort ordered and Severus took a step forward, keeping every muscle in check so he did not shake or tremble with the fear that was suddenly rampant in his chest. That uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach had started again.

"Bow to your master, Severus."

Severus did so without pausing, bowing his head and yet keeping his eyes trained on Voldemort's right hand—normally where he held his weapon and threatened his followers.

"It strikes me, Severus, that you are rather young." Voldemort said softly, coming closer to Severus. "You are nineteen, are you not?"

"That is correct, my Lord." Severus answered, neglecting to mention that he often felt so much older. When he looked in the mirror, he could not believe he was nineteen.

"One of the youngest here. Do you know what young people are, Severus?" Voldemort's question was rhetorical; enough time spent with the Dark Lord trained his followers to recognise when the other was not expecting an answer. "Young people are impressionable. And foolish."

Severus didn't exactly agree with that, but it wasn't the right time or indeed the right forum to air that disagreement.

"I want to know why our Ministry source knew about Manchester, Severus. I realise that you are young. Are you also impressionable, my servant?" A dangerous question that Severus would have to think about. He paused, waiting as Voldemort examined him, looking for any body language signs that might give him away.

"I was impressionable once, my Lord." Severus had decided on a slightly vague response, not wanting to go any further than that.

Voldemort nodded, "Indeed." Another pause, and Severus wished he could be relieved. But Voldemort was not yet finished, "You and I have spent a fair amount of time together, have we not, Severus Snape? Would you say I know you very well?"

Voldemort had stepped out of Severus' eyeline and the younger wizard was forced to stare ahead, so could not see what Voldemort was doing. "Yes, my Lord."

"Would you say I knew you...intimately...Severus?" The sentence drew small sniggers from the surrounding circle and Severus felt his breathing rate increase, just a tiny amount. He forced his voice to stay level, "Yes, my Lord."

Voldemort stepped back in front of Severus and waved his hand so his mask disappeared. He held Voldemort's probing gaze; he had been subjected to this treatment before and knew how to withstand it. Voldemort leaned close so his whisper stroked Severus' cheek, "Are you young enough, impressionable enough and foolish enough to betray me, Severus Snape?"

"No, my Lord."

"I would have thought the past...would ensure that you never let me down again." Voldemort continued, and Severus felt, rather than saw, him smile. "I can feel your pulse rate increasing, my slithering serpent. I hope that is a fear of the past, and not a fear of what might happen in the future."

"I am always loyal to you my Lord."

"And your breathing is quicker too. All the telltale signs of deceit, Severus. Is there something you wish to tell me?" Voldemort was testing him, that Severus knew.

Severus turned his head so he was looking into the Dark Lord's face, "I remain loyal to you, my Lord."

Voldemort pulled back, as if tainted by the mere scent of Severus' breath. "I certainly hope so, Severus." He paused, "Although, the idea of providing retribution tempts me. It would certainly liven up an evening." He reached into his robes and Severus stiffened, expecting a wand. Behind him, he felt his fellow Death Eaters stir, anticipating bloodshed. But Voldemort simply drew a piece of parchment from his inner robes, "I need these by the end of tomorrow. Do not disappoint me."

He turned away, which was Severus' dismissal. He started to walk back to his place in the circle, clenching the piece of parchment, not yet ready to let the drawn breath leave his lungs.

"Oh, and, Severus?" Voldemort called after him. Severus turned—"Crucio."

Severus hit the ground on his knees as the terrible pain gripped his body. He heard Voldemort laugh over the roaring in his ears as he blinked the dark spots from his eyes.

"A warning." Voldemort relinquished the curse and let Severus stand. "This meeting is over."


	6. Chapter Five

**Dumbledore's Betrayal**

* * *

><p><strong><span>Chapter Five<span>**

Severus had read through the list of potions several times on the way back to the Hogwarts castle; it was a familiar list of dangerous potions that the Dark Lord liked to use when interrogating his victims. Walking through the Entrance Hall, a voice calling his name caught his attention.

"Severus."

He turned and greeted the Headmaster with a respectful nod, "Headmaster."

"How was the gathering?" Dumbledore asked, sweeping down the stairs toward him, folding his arms into his cloak.

Severus shrugged, "Uneventful. The Dark Lord has requested some potions but nothing more."

"Did he ask you about Manchester?" Albus pressed. Severus looked at him for a long moment, "He asked me if I had anything to do with the Ministry raid there, yes. As it happens, I did not tell you about the Manchester resources and I did not tell him about the Manchester raid. I think that there is definitely someone passing information to him from within your ranks."

Dumbledore nodded. "It is something that I shall investigate." He paused, "When do you plan to start making your potions? When does he need them?"

"The list is simple enough and it should not take me much time; I intend to start tomorrow morning and will be finished to take them to him by the evening." Severus answered.

"Will you have enough time? I am sure you are aware of what would happen if you were to let him down, Severus." There was not any concern in Albus' voice, which infuriated Severus slightly. "I do not intend to disappoint him."

"Have you thought any further about my request, Severus? It is a pressing matter."

"Headmaster. I do not torture for the Dark Lord; I will not torture for you. I'm sorry, but that is just the way it has to be. I don't even think I am physically able to inflict any pain on anyone anymore." Severus turned away, "Good night, Headmaster."

Dumbledore let him walk away, pursing his lips and wondering whether what he was about to do was acceptable or too far over the line. The line that he could no longer see, it was that blurred.

He returned to his office, convincing himself that it was worth it. It was worth it to get justice for one of his closest friends. Sacrificing a pawn was nothing compare to the sweet taste that justice would bring.

* * *

><p>Severus approached his ingredients cupboard with a book in one hand and the piece of parchment in the other. He had scribbled notes all over it last night, before taking the Dreamless Sleep potion which would ensure he was actually able to brew this morning. He reached out to touch the handle—and pain shot straight up his arm to his neck. He winced and drew away, glaring at the door and wondering if he had placed the wards on the door incorrectly. They weren't supposed to cause pain, however, just make it impossible for any prying students or teachers to get inside his cupboard without his permission first.<p>

He tried the handle again and was rewarded with yet another lancing pain to his nerves, strong enough to make him grasp his hand and stretch the fingers concernedly. Was this some idea of a practical joke? Was someone trying to get back at him, not letting him access his potions ingredients when it was extremely important that he...

_No._

It couldn't. Could it? The only person who knew how important it was that he got to his ingredients today was...

* * *

><p>Albus Dumbledore looked up when Severus stormed into his office, throwing the door back so it banged against the wall and rattled on its hinges. "Do you have any idea what might happen to me if I do not provide the Dark Lord with his potions this evening?"<p>

Dumbledore looked at Severus over the top of his spectacles, "I have a slight idea, yes."

"What right do you have to do this to me?" Severus demanded, walking forward so he was right in front of Dumbledore's desk, placing both palms flat on the wooden surface.

"How do you mean, right?" Dumbledore answered, still calm and unruffled despite the fact the anger was practically sparking from Severus' very being.

"He will destroy me if I disappoint him!" Severus shouted, "You cannot do this!"

"Actually, Severus. Your life belongs to me. That was our deal, was it not?" Dumbledore stood, "You gave me your life so that I would protect you from the people who want to see you imprisoned in Azkaban. I have one simple request for you, and yet, you are showing resistance."

"Because I turned my back on that! I refuse to torture! Why is that so hard to understand?" Severus pulled back slightly, trying not to let all the emotion show on his face.

"It doesn't matter what you think, Severus. I own you."

Severus stared at him. "You do not own me." He whispered.

"Well, my dear boy, currently I am the only one who stands between you and Lord Voldemort. You forget, I've seen the memory that you so ceremoniously destroyed two days ago. I know what he can do to you. You do not have a choice, Severus. It's either you help me, or you put yourself entirely at his mercy. It's your choice. I know what I would choose."

Severus swallowed. He took a step forward, putting him only centimetres away from Dumbledore. "I would rather face the Dark Lord's wrath than carry out your request."

Dumbledore stepped away from Severus. "Very well."

Severus turned away and walked toward the door. Dumbledore called after him, "I'll be here if you change your mind, Severus."

Severus slammed the door behind him on the way out.


	7. Chapter Six

**Dumbledore's Betrayal**

_After this chapter, I promise that **SS19** is hiding amongst her stories of the ever so nice fatherly Dumbledore, unwilling to come out because she knows what might happen to her if she does. But she promises that she is working on a wonderful Sev/Albus fic that has a nice Dumbledore in it!_

_Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed so far...I am so sorry for how this story turns out! There are about five chapters left._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Six<strong>

He was stood in a corner of the secondary Potions dungeon, mainly disused now due to the draughtiness and the cold, hidden from view. That was a talent he had always possessed; becoming invisible. In front of him, he was watching Snape attempt to make potions with the few ingredients he had collected from around the school and the grounds. From the expression on his face it was clear he was not going to be successful.

He could see the way Snape's hands were trembling and the fact he kept wiping his palms on his robes suggested that they were covered in a thin sheen of sweat. His movements were hurried, at times frenzied, and yet there was defeat too. It was not possible to do what he needed to do.

Severus picked up his knife and started to slash a hemlock plant into even-sized pieces, keeping one eye on the furiously bubbling cauldron beside him. He truly was a master of potions, and would have been able to do so much within his chosen subject if he had made the right choice four years before. But he hadn't, and that meant he would have to face the consequences of his actions.

The knife slipped and spilled blood. He withdrew his hand, uttering a swearword, throwing the knife down onto the floor and examining his fingers. He dabbed the blood away with a corner of his sleeve and leaned forward, propping his head up on his arms, staring distractedly at the cauldron. He sighed and put the flame out, watching as the bubbling ceased.

His observer shifted position silently, feeling something uncomfortable flare in his stomach. Suddenly Snape looked very young. He was only a child, although that was easy to forget through the way he carried himself and dealt with his problems.

Snape pushed the hemlock around the desk, a frown crumpling his forehead as he raised his head slightly and glanced toward the clock on the wall opposite. He scrutinised the numerals for a long moment.

Albus Dumbledore watched as Snape stood and tidied away the failures of his potion, scrubbing at the stains he had created and clearly trying to distract himself from the thoughts that were materialising inside his mind. Was Dumbledore feeling guilty? That could not be it, surely?

But then he thought of Glidden and how he had mocked Dumbledore and his friend. How he had destroyed someone who meant so much to Dumbledore. How Dumbledore had sworn revenge on him, and how he would get that revenge. He would get Snape to interrogate Glidden, force him to confess his sins, and then Dumbledore would be able to avenge his friend with a lifetime imprisonment in Azkaban. That was all that was important here.

He turned from Snape and walked away.

* * *

><p>Lord Voldemort looked up when he heard the soft footsteps outside his office. He glanced at the clock and knew immediately who it would be, before the knock at the door. "Enter." He answered, eyes not leaving the parchment before him.<p>

The door opened and Severus stepped through the crack he had created, closing it behind him and coming to stand in the centre of the room, awaiting his Master's attention.

Finally Voldemort finished with what he was doing and raised his head, fixing his gaze on the younger man before him. He paused, almost tasting the air before him. He could smell anticipation and anxiety and...a lashing of fear. He smirked before standing and coming to perch on the front of the desk, folding his arms. "Something you wish to confess, Severus?"

To his credit, Severus answered without hesitation, "I didn't have enough time."

Voldemort nodded slowly, "Indeed." He continued to stare at Snape.

"My ingredients store had been tampered with and I didn't have enough time to restock. Had I known about the shortfall, I would have been more organised. I have no other excuses, my Lord." His voice remained slow and steady and level, which was an achievement considering Voldemort knew just how terrified the other would be.

Still the Dark Lord did not speak. He liked silence. Silence heightened tension. He could see Severus' eyes through his mask, and they were directed at the floor. The boy knew how to show respect; that much was a fact. After a moment, he chose to stand and draw slightly closer to Severus. "I have had a bad day, Severus." He murmured. "I have killed two followers today. They disappointed me."

Severus didn't react to the veiled threat in the Dark Lord's words. He raised his face slightly, and Voldemort saw the dark gaze flick to his own. "I'm disappointed in you, Severus. You are my Potions maker. I expect you to deliver the potions when I ask for them."

Still Severus would not beg for his life. Lord Voldemort did admire such tenacity and bravery. But maybe that was because Snape knew Voldemort was not going to kill him. That was far too easy, too quick, too _clean_. Voldemort smiled slightly, knowing that the hideous expression would probably unnerve his follower more than anything he had ever said.

"Severus. Remove your mask." Voldemort liked to be able to see peoples' faces when he was dealing with them; he liked to be able to see every manifestation of fear. And it gave him much better access to his victim's eyes; he liked to be able to see the eyes. Eyes could give away so much, from the emotion in their irises to the way they blinked. And he did like Severus' eyes; they were dark, which Voldemort liked anyway, but they were also intelligent and perceptive. He had potential, as Voldemort continued to tell him. Unfortunately, so far, he had not filled that potential.

He reached for his wand and stepped up close to Severus, resting the tip of his weapon against Snape's chest. "I assume you are aware that you will be punished for your failure?"

Severus nodded, "I accept that punishment."

Voldemort laughed, "You are very submissive, Severus Snape. I still think you could do so much." He pushed the point of the wand under Severus' chin, forcing him to raise his head. "Are you afraid of me?"

"Yes."

"That's good. Because I can feel it." He spoke the name of the Unforgivable and watched Severus jerk backward, before collapsing to his knees. It was curious how the Cruciatus could make even the most dignified human twitch on the floor like the dying spider. Voldemort let the curse take its hold until the first whimpers of pain started to emanate from his servant, before relinquishing it. "Stand up, Severus."

That would not be the easiest instruction for his follower to carry out—the Cruciatus scrambled nerves and made coherent thought very difficult. But Voldemort was content to watch Severus struggle back to his feet.

"Turn around and face the wall." Voldemort ordered—and then he saw it. The first flicker of real fear on the other's face. It was practically imperceptible...but he knew Severus well, better than anyone else could ever know him, and he saw the tightening of the jaw and the flicker in those almost empty black eyes.

And Snape hesitated.

"I said..." Voldemort waved his wand and the Cruciatus hit again, this time powered by his fury and that made it worse. Severus' nineteen year old body couldn't stand the excruciating agony the Cruciatus provided and he cried out as the fiery knives cut through his skin and stabbed straight to the bone.

Voldemort broke the curse and raised one dark eyebrow, "Would you like me to repeat the instruction?"

Severus looked up at him from where he had fallen. The Dark Lord saw a flash of something that barely resembled rage—but it was gone in a second, replaced with surrender. The fight had been won—and Lord Voldemort smirked as he watched Severus follow his instruction.

The Dark Lord put his wand down on his desk—he didn't need it.

Not for this.


	8. Chapter Seven

**Dumbledore's Betrayal**

_I like a nice Dumbledore *sobs*. Actually, I lie, t'was a lot of fun to write him like this. Do you know, he only gets worse. Oh, and Severus doesn't go anywhere. I think that he believes somewhere in that mind of his that he deserves all of this._

_Poor Severus. _

_~ SS19_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Seven:<strong>

Albus Dumbledore stepped into the dungeons, wrapping his robes tighter around him and lighting the torches on the wall so he could see slightly better. It was very late at night—early in the morning—and the dungeons were dark and cold. But he had felt the wards penetrated near to the Forbidden Forest and had known that his youngest spy had returned alive from Voldemort.

He had never doubted that he would be alive, after all. It was not Voldemort's style to kill someone who was, in fact, valuable to him. And Severus Snape could be very valuable if used in the right way.

Dumbledore was using his acute senses to find out just where the younger wizard had stowed himself after returning to the school; he was not in the library or in the small office they had erected for him until he started teaching at the beginning of the new school year in September. Both the potions classrooms were empty—but Dumbledore knew he was close. He could definitely feel that.

He turned the corner and felt something tug at him—he knew the castle better than anywhere else, and the castle was trying to tell him something. He opened the door on the left hand side of the corridor and stepped into the showers that accompanied the Slytherin Common Room. At this time of night, they would of course be deserted.

So why was there water running? Dumbledore peered through the steam that lay heavy in the air, listening to the thundering water and realising that he had found the right place. His eyes fell on a bundle of black and white in the corner of the room. He used his hand to turn the showers off, letting the steam disperse a little, and creating silence.

Almost silence.

There was sobbing.

Dumbledore crossed to the huddle of robes and limbs curled into a small ball, sitting down next to it. Here was his chance to finish what he had started. He reached out and gently brushed a crooked finger against the dark hair, "Severus."

Severus didn't react to his touch. He kept his face buried in his arms, clearly in shock. Dumbledore could feel him shivering. He put one arm around the younger man and pulled him against him, still stroking his hair with his other hand.

Finally a strangled voice managed to work its way to the surface, "Let go of me."

Dumbledore knew that was a lie—Severus needed the comfort right now, and Dumbledore was all too happy to provide it. "I think you need me, right now, Severus my boy."

A pause. "This is your fault."

"No. Technically, this is your fault, my dear. I did ask you nicely the first time." Dumbledore countered.

Severus raised his head. His cheeks were wet with tears, and there was blood trickling down his chin from where he had bitten his lip so it had split. He swallowed, staring ahead of him at something Dumbledore could not see. And then. "If I do this...for you...will you protect me...from him?"

Dumbledore looked at him. "You have my word."

Severus nodded slowly. "Tell me what you need."

"He is released from Azkaban tomorrow. I need a confession that will put him in Azkaban for the rest of his life. Do not kill him. I want him to be placed in Azkaban." Dumbledore answered softly.

Severus turned his head so he could look into the Headmaster's eyes. "Does this please you, master?" He said, voice acidic. "Seeing me like this, master? What you have done to me?"

"I did what I had to do, Severus, for the war."

"You used me. You betrayed me." Severus shook his head. "I will do as you ask. You can leave now."

Albus let his fingers drop. "Has he asked you again to create the potions? If so, you can use the ones in my office in the store cupboard."

Every muscle in Severus' body stiffened and he stared at the Headmaster, horror and disgust, "You had them? All the time? You could have stopped this?"

Albus did not answer and instead bent forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Severus' temple, whispering two words against his ear. "Thank you." He stood and left Severus sitting in his corner. Severus watched him leave and then pulled his wand from his pocket and shot a burst of red light after him. It hit the door and left a smouldering mark. Around him, the mirrors started to crack as the uncontrollable rage gripped his heart and he could no longer control his magic. The mirrors shattered and glass showered the floor. Severus stood jerkily, breathing sharp and quick, grabbing hold of one of the shower cubicles to keep his balance. He stared at the pieces of glass, his wand hand trembling violently.

He threw himself to his knees and screamed out the pain and the frustration, his skin suddenly hot and cold and uncomfortable all over. Pain lanced across his knees and the palms of his hands as the glass cut into the soft skin. He raised bleeding fingers and pulled back his collar, twisting his neck to stare at the marks that lined his pale collarbone. The sobs choked his throat once more and he collapsed down into a crumpled heap amongst the glass.


	9. Chapter Eight

**Dumbledore's Betrayal**

_Did I ever mention that I hate the evil Dumbledore in this story? Shall I repeat it? I HATE THE EVIL DUMBLEDORE._

_I don't even know how he came out of my mind..._

_~ SS19_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Eight<strong>

Severus crossed the darkened street and lingered outside the common Muggle inn, hidden in the shadows, robes wrapped around him. He was not wearing his Death Eater mask, he was wearing an alternative mask to hide his face, and his wand was easily accessible inside his robes. He lowered his head and waited, waiting for his prey to leave the pub and meet his fate at the hands of a man who had sworn he would never cause pain to anyone ever again.

He had one piece of parchment with him; the confession that Dumbledore wanted Glidden to sign. Glidden had to sign it of his own free will—but with a little persuasion. Severus couldn't decide if he was anxious or anticipating, because there was a feeling in his stomach that he recognised and yet could not bear to associate with this activity.

It was excitement.

He was excited to make someone else suffer for all the pain that he had been caused, everything that this man had inadvertently taken from him because he had crossed Albus Dumbledore and thus Dumbledore was willing to destroy him. His mouth was dry and his heart was pumping blood quickly around his veins. And although it sickened him inside, he could not help but feel the power that the Dark could bring.

The door to the pub opened and David Glidden staggered out, clearly intoxicated by the Muggle concoctions he had swallowed during his short time inside. He walked unsteadily along the kerb—and Severus made his move. He grabbed Glidden from behind, one arm smothering his mouth, catching him off guard and meaning Glidden did not have the time to shout or even struggle. He pushed him into the alleyway that he had chosen, out of sight of any windows, erected a barrier to stop any unwanted interruptions...he threw Glidden down onto the floor and withdrew his wand.

Glidden stared up at him, this black shadow who was wearing a mask, and true fear manifested itself on his face. "W-What are you d-doing?"

Severus didn't answer. He simply pointed his wand at Glidden and muttered the curse that had been used on him so many times.

The power and pleasure that the Cruciatus provided the caster swept over him; he had the capability to make this man beg and plead and whimper. He was doing to someone what everyone in his life had ever done to him; he was hurting them, and that felt so _good_!

He broke the curse when it was clear Glidden was not going to hold out for much longer under such torment. The man lay before him, sweating, shaking and whispering broken sentences that asked for mercy. He laughed and walked behind Glidden, the tactic that his master so often employed, causing his prisoner to look behind him, "W-w...hat do you want?" He managed to spit.

_"Your surrender, Severus."_

Severus considered, "A confession." He murmured. Glidden stared at him, as if he recognised the voice, although Severus knew that they had never met. "...Wh...what?"

"A confession to the murder of that old man in Devizes."

Glidden sniggered, "I...had nothing...to do..."

His sentence was interrupted with a scream of pain as Severus used the curse again.

_Cold fingers. Why were they always cold? "You are such a fool, Severus Snape."_

Severus winced and broke the curse, watching Glidden flinch on the ground before him, at his feet, as he had been so many times when Voldemort had decided he needed some entertainment. And the thought of him being so defenceless made Snape angry. What right was it of anyone to make him so pathetic and weak?

"I know you were there. Do not lie to me. I will enter your mind if I have to."

_"Have you been practicing your Occlumency, Severus? You are stronger than you used to be. Do you have something to hide?"_

"What do you want?" Glidden's voice was slightly stronger. The whole futility of his strength made Severus smile beneath his mask. "I have a confession that you will sign. Then I may let you live."

_"I may let you live, Severus, should you accept your punishment like the servant you are."_

"I—will not—sign any—confession." Glidden coughed and blood splattered the ground.

Severus sighed and raised his wand again, "I do not really wish to hurt you, Glidden. But I will. If you continue to show such obstinacy."

_"You have such potential. Yet I have to hurt you. You continue to let me down."_

Glidden was much weaker than Severus—his body was already giving in—and Snape could tell that he would not last much longer. "How long can you last?"

_"My dear servant. How long can you last?"_

"Wait...please..." Glidden raised one hand, and Severus stared at him. "Please, don't."

_"My Lord..."_

_"Are you pleading with me, Severus, dear?"_

_Please..."_

"Shut up, Glidden."

"Please, no more."

_"No more..."_

"Crucio!"

Glidden screamed again and collapsed back to the pavement, flinching and wincing and twitching and jerking as the Cruciatus took control of his muscles. Severus stepped around him, watching him with an air of disinterest.

_He turned his head away and let his eyes flutter closed. He wouldn't watch this. And he could feel those cold fingers probing further and the soft yet cruel laughter against his ear..._

"Show mercy!" Glidden shouted—and Severus jerked back to the present. He lowered his wand, "If you sign the confession."

"W-w-hy are you working f-for Dumbledore?" Glidden gasped as Severus withdrew the parchment.

"What?" Snape demanded, staring at Glidden.

"I...know you...S-Snape. You're...S-Snape."

Severus looked at him, taking a step back. Glidden knew who he was. That would pose problems if Voldemort ever found out that he was doing Dumbledore's dirty work.

Severus panicked. He felt his chest tighten. He screwed the parchment up and shoved it back into his robes.

"...What are you doing..."

"Disposal." Severus pointed his wand back at Glidden. Glidden's eyes widened, "No. Please...please don't...don't kill me..."

_"You're weak, Severus Snape."_

"I will destroy you."

"Please!" Glidden raised one hand and pleaded with Snape, "I beg...don't kill me..."

Severus swallowed and blinked. He didn't want to kill him. He was not a killer. He had never had to look someone in the eye before and kill him. He was just a Potion maker and a spy. But this was too much to cope with. If the Dark Lord found out what Snape truly was...the retribution...he couldn't...

_"If I ever find out that you are not...who you say you are...Severus Snape...I will destroy you."_

He looked at Glidden's pleading brown eyes and shook his head. "I'm sorry." He steadied his voice.

"Avada Kedavra."


	10. Chapter Nine

**Dumbledore's Betrayal**

_One of the final chapters. Dumbledore's Betrayal was an experiment, written in its entirety in one weekend. I might not repeat such an experiment again..._

_~SS19_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Nine<strong>

"I did not get a confession. He's dead." Severus repeated in reply to Dumbledore's exclamation of, "What?"

Albus Dumbledore's eyes were stone cold. "Why?"

"He didn't stand up to a Death-Eater's standard of torture. Surely this is an acceptable alternative? He paid for his crime." Severus was not going to be subjected to guilt over this; he had done what he had been asked.

"I wanted him in Azkaban."

"I have carried out what you wanted. I have done as you asked; he has had retribution for his sins. You must hold up your end of the bargain, Headmaster." Severus folded his arms and fixed his determined gaze on Dumbledore's blue.

"And I will. I will ensure that Lord Voldemort never harms you again." He gestured to the door, "You may leave."

Severus closed the door behind him and exhaled his relief, leaning back against the wall as the strength threatened to leave his limbs. It was done. He would never be threatened by Voldemort again. That was worth all of the pain killing Glidden had done. He smiled and headed off for the library, where he might finally be able to get some rest and finish his book.

In his office, Dumbledore sat back in his chair and frowned. This was an unexpected turn of events. He had not expected Snape to kill Glidden. He had wanted Glidden to be imprisoned in Azkaban where the Dementors could finally touch him.

But it was done. Nothing else could be done about it. It was finished.

* * *

><p>Severus curled up in the chair and opened the book on the page he had marked. It was quiet in the library on a Saturday, and he had not been disturbed by any of the students who were studying silently. Most of them knew who he was anyway. They had been his peers when he had been a student. To be a teacher at nineteen was going to be an interesting achievement, one that had never been done before.<p>

He turned the page, yawning slightly. He hadn't slept last night due to the nightmares playing on his mind, but today, he was feeling more content. The idea that Voldemort was out of his life made him pleased, even if it meant spending the rest of his life inside Hogwarts. He liked the castle. He felt safe here.

For the first time in a long while, he smiled out of contentment. The warmth of the library tempted him as always, and it wasn't long before he was asleep.

* * *

><p>It was the slamming that woke him only a couple of hours later. He jerked upright, finding the library deserted—but the door was open and there was the sound of voices. Before he could stand up and properly assess the situation, a voice shouted out, "There's Snape!"<p>

He looked at the Ministry officials who had entered the library and disturbed him. "How can I help?"

Albus Dumbledore was right behind them, "Excuse me. Felix. You cannot simply storm in here and arrest someone in my care..."

"Arrest?" Snape leapt up. "What?"

"Severus Snape. You are hereby charged with the murder of David Glidden, last night in Wiltshire."

Severus stared at him, "I didn't..."

"You were seen by a witness. Do not make this hard, Mr. Snape. Your wand, if you please." The lead Ministry official, Felix, had a peculiarly shaped head and an even more peculiarly shaped hairstyle.

Severus swallowed, "I don't...I don't have it..."

"Severus. If you have nothing to fear than surely you can just hand the wand over?" Dumbledore prompted. Severus looked at him, alarmed. What was Dumbledore doing?

But he did reach into his pocket and give his wand to Felix, who pointed his own wand at it and murmured, "Priori Incantato."

Between the points where the two wands met, green light flashed for a moment, nothing more. But it was unmistakably the light of the Killing Curse. Severus swallowed, raising his head. He could have tried to escape—but he did not know what good it could do. He looked toward Dumbledore—who was looking away.

"You are under arrest, Mr. Snape."


	11. Chapter Ten

**Dumbledore's Betrayal**

_Please remember that this one was written in a weekend - which really does not explain why it takes me so long to update - it's one of those cathexis stories. I do not condone the evil Albus. At all. Full stop._

_~ SS19_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Ten:<strong>

"Severus Snape. You are hereby on trial for the murder of David Glidden, recently released from Azkaban. You were seen at the scene of the murder by a witness who has since positively identified you, and your wand has also proved that the last spell you cast was the Killing Curse." The woman presiding over Severus' trial was the current Minister for Magic, Millicent Bagnold, and the current Head of Magical Law Enforcement, Barty Crouch. Severus did not think much of either of them; Bagnold was weak, and Crouch was brutal in his methods and had little popularity outside of his department.

But he was still sat before them, hands chained to the arms of the chair, and feeling more than a little nervous. This situation was not good. He nodded his acceptance of what Bagnold was saying, before moving his gaze to Crouch, who would continue the trial.

"The sentence for subjecting any living person to the Killing Curse is lifetime imprisonment in Azkaban." Crouch announced, "How do you plead?"

"I was under duress." Severus answered. "I was...asked to kill Glidden."

"Are you suggesting, Mr. Snape, that you were under the influence of the Imperius Curse at the time of killing Mr. Glidden?" Crouch responded.

"I was not under the Imperius Curse but...I still had no choice in the matter." Severus' eyes flickered to Dumbledore, who was sat to his right, watching him closely. "I had information that this man was a danger to the Ministry. I was asked to kill him in order to prevent information from reaching the Dark Lord."

Crouch looked intrigued, "And who asked you to do such a thing, Master Snape?"

Severus didn't understand why people were not fighting for him. Why didn't Dumbledore stick up for him and admit that he was the one who had asked such a thing of Severus? He had promised Snape protection. "Albus Dumbledore did."

All eyes turned to Dumbledore, who raised his eyebrows, as if surprised.

"Albus?" Crouch asked softly, "Is that true? Did you ask Snape to kill Glidden?"

"Does that change what might happen?" Dumbledore asked in response, eyes not leaving Snape.

"It might. That would depend on the circumstances. Did you ask Severus Snape to kill David Glidden, Albus?"

"No, I did not ask him to _kill_ Glidden." Albus answered.

Severus tried to leap up, "You asked me to torture him for information!"

"Why would I make such a request?" Albus countered. "I am not Lord Voldemort, Severus; you are confusing me with your past Master."

"No! You wanted a confession that he had murdered your friend! That is what you asked me to do! I didn't mean to kill him!" Severus replied, "Will you tell them? I have a confession somewhere...it's in my pocket! If I can reach it..."

Crouch glared at him, "Do you realise what you are accusing Albus of, here, Snape? One of the most respected wizards of our time?"

"I am telling the truth! He asked me to do it, in exchange for protection from the Dark Lord!"

Mutters and whispers had erupted around the room, as people started to question the intentions of the apparently saintly Albus Dumbledore.

Dumbledore stood and made his way down to where Severus was sat. "Where is the confession, Severus?" His voice was gentle. Kind. As if he was talking to someone who was insane.

"In my inside pocket." Severus answered.

"Very well. We can look at the confession—if there is one—and move on from there, shall we? Allow me, Barty." He gently pulled Severus' robe back and took a folded piece of parchment from the pocket. He unfolded it and looked at it, before his eyes went back to Severus for a fraction of a moment. Severus met the gaze, holding it until Dumbledore looked away and turned back to Crouch and Bagnold. "The parchment is blank." He said softly.

"What?" Severus tugged at his cuffs, "No! That was the confession!"

Dumbledore showed it to Snape briefly before handing it to Crouch, who examined it more thoroughly. "This is unused parchment." He showed it to the witnesses.

Severus winced and looked up at Dumbledore, "No...Headmaster...you..."

"It is clear that we are dealing with a twisted murderer here. I suggest that he is sentenced to life imprisonment with no further delay." Crouch said, to sounds of approval from the members of the Wizengamot around him.

Severus sought Dumbledore's gaze, dropping his voice to a murmur. "Headmaster. Please don't do this to me." Dumbledore looked at him for a long moment, examining something that he found in the dark gaze. Then, he folded his arms into either side of his robes, "Barty." He took a step forward. "I think we could show a little mercy. He has had a difficult life, and Lord Voldemort may have twisted whatever goodness he had left. He is clearly just confused about what has happened to him. It can happen to the best of us..."

Crouch smiled, just slightly. "You never fail to see the good in everyone, Albus. That is one of your greatest talents."

Severus thought he could be sick. He saw Albus' smile and swore viciously under his breath.

Crouch glanced at him with eyes of pure venom. "However, in this case, I must overrule you. Severus Snape is too dangerous to have mercy shown upon. Severus Snape, you are sentenced to a lifetime imprisonment in Azkaban."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Eleven**

It was cold and dark in his cell. He sat in a corner of the room, arms wrapped around himself because the shirt and trousers he was forced to wear did not protect against the Azkaban elements. He had been in prison for almost a week—although he was not one hundred percent sure when the day started and the night ended. Time seemed to pass so slowly here. He bowed his head and rested his temple against his arms. He slept a lot at the moment, because he always seemed to weary. Food was scarce and the presence of the Dementors continually drained his soul of any energy. He just wanted to die. Here the memories were too much for him.

He looked up when footsteps echoed in the corridor, coming toward him. They stopped outside his cell door, and he was suddenly confronted with the figure of Albus Dumbledore.

"Hello, Severus."

Severus jerked to his feet and crossed to the bars that meant he would never be able to leave this place again. "Dumbledore."

"I see, no pleasantries any more?" Albus replied.

"You put me in here." Severus hissed. "You lied and changed that confession. I wasn't making it up!"

"How is it, in here?" Albus asked, "I can imagine it's...soul destroying."

Snape did not answer that.

"It's a shame that the witness saw you." Dumbledore murmured pleasantly, as if he was commenting on a passing bird.

"There was no witness. It was you." Severus answered. "You had this planned from the start."

"I am pleased to see that you remain as intelligent as your schooling suggested you would be, my dear boy." Albus' tone remained light.

"Why did you do this? Why did you choose me?" Severus whispered, "Tell me. What did I ever do to you?"

Dumbledore sighed, as if he was talking to an impertinent child. "You didn't. But I'm at war, Severus. There have to be casualties."

"I never told him anything about the Order. All those times he asked. All those times I lied to him. At least he never threw me in Azkaban."

Severus looked away, "I only killed him because he knew about me. You risked losing your spy."

Albus shrugged noncommittally, "I found someone to replace you. Someone whose loyalty I can depend upon. Someone whom Lord Voldemort does not have an..._intimate_...interest in."

Severus flinched at the use of the words and drew back. "You know nothing about what happened."

"Anyway. I thought that I would tell you that your wand has been destroyed. I thought you might need to know." Dumbledore shook his head, "Voldemort was right. You did have so much potential, Severus Snape."

"You said that you would protect me." Severus murmured after a moment. "You gave me your word."

"I said that I would protect you from Lord Voldemort." Dumbledore looked at him, straight in the eyes. "And he cannot touch you here. I have kept my word. My conscience is clear, Severus."

And he turned from Snape and walked away.


End file.
